


The Path of Most Resistance

by LostPoe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostPoe/pseuds/LostPoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Tumblr's 100 Theme Challenge!</p>
<p>From when Greg Lestrade first meets the Holmes brothers to when he becomes to know the "Iceman"  better then anyone else. A Series of short stories of how our favorite Detective Inspector enters the world of the Holmes brothers and maybe learns a thing or two about himself along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path of Most Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to say this is the first thing I've written for this fandom, also the first time in over 4 years I've written a story at all. I know I am a little rusty and my grammar is horrid... so please bare with me :P If you wish to beta it for me drop me a note on Tumblr! (enidesu) If you want to see more drop me a note as I check there often and will post my progress there :3

"Sir!"

The call was rewarded with a heavy silence; save for the soft sounds of lulled breathing. Shadows played over a sleeping face, relaxed facial lines looking deeper and darker. Even in this state stress was evident; much like the look of kindness that seemed to make up the general mapping of the Detective Inspectors face. The hour was late and the night had been filled with lots of leg work and paper work. He had only just closed his eyes for a moment, just one moment to hopefully drive away the edges of his brewing head ache. A head ache that had been driven into him by a rather bothersome detainee. A man who flounced around in such a way that spoke he believed everyone should know who he was and if they didn't they were moronic. The very man he had found heavily influenced by drugs during a particularly difficult investigation who was now sitting in a holding cell downstairs.

 

"SIR!"

Rich brown eyes snapped open quickly as his body lurched forward in the tall backed office chair. A strong weathered hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose; eyes squinting shut painfully. The sudden burst of florescent light assaulted his tired eyes as did the throb of the head ache. He swore he had only closed his eyes for a moment, just long enough to muster what little energy he had left to finish off his paper work.

"Yes Donovan, what is it?" Greg all but snapped, his fatigue evident in his grounded out tones. It wasn't her fault really, he should have known better then to close his eyes this late. With the time creeping closer to four am, most knew it was the danger hour for those working this late. Close your eyes now and you're liable to sleep well into the next day for all of the others to see and mock. Last thing he needed was that, he was under fire enough already.

 

"There's some strange bloke here demanding to speak with you" She started, leaning her hip against the door frame with crossed arms. "I think its got something to do with that howling freak we have down stairs..."

 

She didn't even have to say the name of the detainee for Greg to know who she was talking about. The source of his well formed head ache and had a name that seemed overly pertinacious and posh. He had been in the house they were raiding for a difficult case. A suspected killer; whom had possible gang ties, had reportedly been squatting there amongst the drug addled homeless. The house had been filled with people, including their suspect but most had been released right away. However this one man in particular had raddled off facts about their case and the suspect that made him first think he was linked to the whole thing. A great deal of the things he knew hadn't even been made public yet, let alone common knowledge.

 

"What? Now?" Greg asked, raking a hand now through his silver touched hair. Eyes more alert, he looked to the women standing in his door way who looked anything but amused. The look on her face spoke volumes and all he could do was heave a tired sigh.

"Fine, send him in" He mumbled, sitting up to straighten his clothes. Quickly he shuffled his papers around, tucking away crime screen photos and anything else he didn't want seen. As he shuffled things around the sound of two sets of foot falls against linoleum rang in his ears. This visitor didn't sound like they wanted to waste any time. He honestly didn't blame him since it was so late and like him just wanted to get home.

 

The inspector didn't lift his head from his tidying until he heard someone pointedly clear their throat. Looking up, he arched an graying eyebrow as his eyes fell on the man who had just entered his office. Greg couldn't help but find it mildly amusing that someone would be dressed in a posh three piece suit at this time of night. There was no way that someone with that expensive of a suit would be leaving the office at this hour let alone a party. It was the middle of October for christ sakes. He was tall and built in a way that screamed desk work but not enough to be considered portly. Someone who had a position in which they had to look the part and judging by the way the man held himself, had to act the part.

"Good Evening Detective Inspector Lestrade" The voice was smooth and calm however there was a weight of authority there.

"Evening..." He greeted, "My Sargent told me you have something to talk to me about"

"I believe you have obtained someone whom I have come to collect" The man began, walking over and sitting in the chair across from Greg. A smooth wooden handle of a umbrella swung from his hand; standing at attention much like a cane would.

"Oh have I?" The detective questioned, shuffling through papers till he fell upon a thin file folder. "One Sherlock Holmes I presume?"

"Yes, I would appreciate it if I could take him into my custody.... discreetly of course" The posh man said with a politician smile. Greg had come across enough Politicians during his time at the Yard to know when he was in the presence of one. This man definitely had his own agenda but how it involved the man downstairs he wasn't so sure.

"And who are you exactly?"

There was a pause then a almost predatory smile before the answer came. "A ... concerned party...."

This made Greg pause as well, seeing as this was a conversation that was to be well calculated before speaking. However, it was late and he was lacking in the way of tact as his desire to go home to his wife out weighed the fun of the game. "Ah, right. A baby sitter then?"

The answer was delayed as if the man was contemplating on his next set of words very carefully. "Brother actually..."

"Is there really a difference?" Greg asked with a cheeky grin. He was getting the feeling that this was a normal occurrence for the gentlemen before him. Maybe he would have to look a little further into these Holmes brothers.

A mildly amused smirk passed over the posh mans face, a glint in his eye that told a thousand different things. "Mycroft Holmes" he introduced, his hand clutching the handle of his umbrella; giving no signs of offering a handshake. The man inclined his head in a greeting however and that was an extent of finding out who he was. The feeling that there was much more to this man then just his fancy three piece and umbrella was strong. This Mycroft Holmes was not one to be taken lightly he assumed. 

"Well Mr. Holmes, as much as I would love to just simply hand over your brother and skip the paper work, the man knows key information on a case" Greg replied, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Information in which was never made public... plus he is... lack for a better term 'High as a kite' so needless to say I am a little hesitant in just letting him walk right on out of here"

"Detective Inspector I can assure you my brother has no connection to the man you just apprehended tonight..." Mycroft began, " Sherlock has an affinity for puzzles and is notorious for sticking his nose into matters in which at times he shouldn't"

The detective watched as the elder Holmes idly fiddled with the handle of his umbrella, seeming to grow exhausted with the conversation. "If you spend at the longest five minutes with my brother you will find he has a brilliant mind.... that even when soaked with cocaine he can deduce things better then anyone in all of Scotland yard...better then you at the very least"

Greg tried to keep the look of offense from his face, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction. Mycroft was trying to provoke him, frustrate him into just letting Sherlock go. However he wasn't going to take the bait, he wasn't new. "I highly doubt one man can out wit all of Scotland yard, let alone a drug addict... who do you take me for?"

"Then shall we test it then? What have you to lose?" Mycroft proposed, standing from the chair in a flourish of motion.

Remaining in his seat, Greg Lestrade ran a hand through his hair tiredly and looked to the side. Really what did he have to lose? Sherlock was only taking up space and wasn't really much harm to the public; or so it seemed. Perhaps to himself but really throwing him in jail would only make things worse for the presumed addict.

"Alright, he's got five minutes to prove to me he wasn't apart of this investigation, if he can then he's all yours" Greg sighed, rising from his chair. He walked around it and stood before the other man, just slightly shorter then him.

"Well then, shall we?" Mycroft smiled, turning before both men walked out of the office.


End file.
